


The Best Gift-Giver

by jazwriter



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Romance, F/F, Sappy holiday story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:56:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazwriter/pseuds/jazwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Secret Santa is mandated at Elias-Clarke, and guess who gets assigned to Miranda? Slightly AU after Paris Fashion Week. Andy stills works for Miranda. This was first posted in 2012 on fanfiction.net after I received a prompt from quiethearted. Happy holidays!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quiethearted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiethearted/gifts).



> Special Thanks to my betas quiethearted, Gin akasarahsmom, shesgottaread, and peetsden. They always catch those pesky errors and let me know when a word or turn of phrase sounds out of place. I couldn't ask for better friends to smooth out the rough edges. 
> 
> In addition, firebird93 reached out to offer me some more help with the editing...I very much appreciated it!  
> Disclaimer: I do not own The Devil Wears Prada, its characters, or the Bliss Soho day spa. I am not profiting from this story (except through positive comments which feed my Muse). It is created through the fair use doctrine or some such pish-posh. 
> 
> Prompt from quiethearted: Secret Santa with them all trying to guess who theirs is. Andy has Miranda. Miranda has Andy. Both sweating what to get the other. Miranda goes it alone, but when out with the gang for drinks, Andy pumps them all for what they'd give Miranda if they were her Secret Santa, but without letting on that Andy has her. So gifts keep turning up that make Miranda think first that it's one person and then the next, and so on. Miranda is going dbl crazy. Trying to come up with gifts for Andy, and trying to figure out who her SS is.
> 
> A/N: I changed the story a bit, but I did pretty much keep to the prompt. This takes place about two weeks after Paris Fashion Week. I kept true to the date that was reflected on Andy’s Sidekick (December 3rd) when she threw it into the Parisian fountain (and therefore Paris Fashion Week occurred in December). It is AU insomuch that Andy still works for Miranda after Paris.

**Chapter 1**

 

Nigel waltzed into Miranda's outer office and smirked as he stopped in front of Andy's desk. She knew that look—it was a precursor to news Nigel found amusing, most times because it would make Andy's life a living hell.

"Dare I ask?" she said, shooting a furtive look toward the lair where Miranda prowled. The woman had been on edge all morning. Andy knew that sooner or later Miranda's irritation would spill onto her, as scorching as any Starbucks especially-made-for-Miranda, center-of-the-sun hot coffee was.

"Hot off the presses," Nigel whispered and shoved a sheet of paper under Andy's nose.

Reading it, Andy's eyes grew wide. "Uh, oh, Miranda's not going to like this," she muttered.

"Mmmm. Just hope you don't get her—she's impossible to shop for as it is, and with a fifty dollar limit," Nigel shuddered convincingly, "nightmares, for sure."

"Oh, great. With my luck," Andy grimaced. She stared at the internal memo once more. "Secret Santa. Really? Isn't that insulting to those who are Jewish?"

"Well, dear Irv is not, and that is all that matters since he decided to make this mandatory. Plus, he is convinced that this will irritate..." He jerked his head toward Miranda's office.

"No kidding! She's already in a bad mood. Any idea why?" Andy whispered.

Raising his eyebrows, Nigel shook his head. "Actually, I thought she's been in a pretty good mood lately, for her anyway. No heads rolling, no firings, no blood trailing after minions once they left her cave—she's been amazingly even-keeled since Paris. Granted, it's only been two weeks, but..."

Andy pressed her lips together, thoughts racing through her mind. Now that Nigel mentioned it, Miranda had been rather toothless since Paris. Not subdued. Not depressed or sad. Just more pleasant. Thoughtful. And yes, now that Andy thought about it, happier.

Not today, though.

"So, get online and register, Six. We only have a week. I already know who I have," he sing-songed and with a smirk left.

Keying the necessary website, Andy registered, pausing to read the directions. Every Elias-Clarke employee was required to "play," each assigned the task of becoming a Secret Santa to someone else within that person's particular magazine or division. That meant Andy would get someone within _Runway_. After finishing the necessary steps, Andy closed her eyes tightly and pressed the Enter key, knowing a name was about to be assigned to her. Opening one eye, she gasped softly and opened her other eye quickly.

Miranda Priestly.

Of course. Of course she was Miranda's Secret Santa. _Shit. Shit, shit, shit!_

"Andrea."

Looking up from her desk, Andy locked her computer and hopped up. A moment later she stood before Miranda's desk, smiling politely at her back. The editor stood looking out the window for a few more moments before turning away from the view. When the editor's eyes locked on hers, Andy gulped. She looked so perturbed.

"Andrea, my girls decided this morning to stay with me over their winter break. I am unable to miss the corporate holiday party on Friday." She looked at Andy, a wrinkle forming above the bridge of her nose.

Andy understood now. Cara, their nanny, was leaving to visit her family in Washington Friday morning. Caroline and Cassidy originally were supposed to be spending their break with their father. Miranda was slow to trust anyone and even pickier when it came to allowing someone to care for her children. Since Miranda's return from Paris, the press had hounded the editor and her girls regarding the impending divorce. No doubt Miranda was loathe to bring a virtual stranger into her home, not knowing whether any possible caretaker might be looking for information that could be sold for a pretty penny.

"Oh! Well, um, you know, maybe I could hang out with them on Friday night. I mean, if they wanted to have a few friends over so it's not just me, then whatever. Uh, I could just be there, somewhere, just, um, in case. Until you got back." Andy’s poorly worded offer died a not-so-slow death at the sight of Miranda's softened eyes and the ghost of a smile directed her way.

"They ask about you. You have made quite an impression on them, it seems," Miranda said softly.

"Huh," Andy said stupidly. Blinking hard, Andy shook her head slightly and smiled. "Well, that's, that's nice. It will be fine. On Friday." Andy nodded several times before recognizing how idiotic she no doubt looked.

"Now if only I could solve this Secret Santa problem as easily," Miranda complained while crossing the room to her desk and sliding into her chair. Looking at the various periodicals waiting for her attention, Miranda said softly, "That's all."

Pivoting on her heels, Andy made it to the doorway before hearing her name float past her ear. She turned and intense blue eyes held hers for breathless moments, the walls lowered, allowing Andy to see sincerity and gratitude as she heard the words, "Thank you." Smiling brightly as warmth suffused her, Andy nodded jerkily and made her way to her desk, nearly missing her seat as she sought shelter from those piercing eyes and grateful words.

Trying to control her breathing while fanning her overheated face, Andy heard the ruckus that signaled Emily's arrival. Still on crutches, Emily insisted on traveling around town to complete the myriad errands that needed to be finished. Andy had offered to do them, but Emily's pride would not allow it.

Andy ran to the glass doors and held one open, knowing that this would irritate the redhead, but not caring. She wanted to help, and she would in whatever way she could. With a huff and a small nod, Emily clumped past, not saying a word as Andy relieved her of several heavy bags. Honestly, Andy had no idea how Emily made it across the hall with them never mind across the city.

"Traffic was a mess, and all those ridiculous Santas roaming the city made walking anywhere virtually impossible," Emily groused. Leaning her crutches against the wall near her chair, Emily flopped down. "Ugh. My arms are killing me!"

Andy watched Emily as she rubbed her biceps briskly. "Drinks tonight? Looks like you could use some relaxation," Andy offered.

"Drinks! Like we have time," Emily said sulkily.

"Sure we do! Invite Serena and Nigel. A few drinks, some laughs. What do you say?" Andy prodded.

"What about your boyfriend? Won't he get angry that you aren't with him?" Emily asked, her voice reflecting curiosity.

"Nate? Oh, no. He broke up with me just before Paris. As a matter of fact, he leaves for Boston tomorrow to be a sous-chef," Andy admitted softly, her eyes flitting toward Miranda's office.

"Oh. Well. Drinks, then," Emily sniffed, but the look she shot Andy was much kinder than her words, causing Andy to grin.

"Now if only I could solve this Secret Santa problem as easily," Andy muttered, grinning as she echoed Miranda's earlier words. She needed ideas. Maybe tonight she would find them.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The music thrummed through the restaurant, making it hard for Andy to hear her companions. She leaned in more to catch what Emily was saying. "This Secret Santa business is bloody ridiculous. When am I supposed to find the time? And I have no idea what to get my person!"

"Who do you have?" Serena asked.

"I can't tell you that!" Emily exclaimed, slapping Serena's arm.

"I bet it's Miranda!" crowed Nigel.

Seizing the opportunity, Andy said, "What could anyone get for Miranda?! She'd be impossible. I mean, she has everything."

"Well, there's no sense getting her clothes or anything having to do with fashion," Emily agreed.

"Yes, but she is a woman of artistic tastes. That is why she is so good at what she does. She has vision," Serena said.

"With a fifty dollar limit, the best art one could give her would be designer postcards," Emily laughed.

"No, no. Just an unknown artist's work. You just have to know what she likes. Look at the clothes she wears. How she has decorated her office. Her house," Serena said.

"You seem to have put some thought into this," Nigel needled, his eyebrows raised. Serena merely laughed.

"Ah, no. Not as you suggest. But I am from an affluent family. I know how challenging it can be to buy a gift for someone who has everything or who has access to whatever is desired," Serena said, still smiling.

"I think she would like something that she would never allow herself to indulge in. She is always working or attending work-related events. Something that would get her away from that for a bit. Away from the sharks," Nigel mused.

Andy was surprised by his words. They had talked about Miranda's apparent betrayal while in Paris. After that fateful breakfast when Miranda had awarded Nigel's dream job to Jacqueline Follet in order to keep her own job safe, Andy had walked away, intending to quit. Nigel had seen her crossing over to the Place de la Concorde. He had stopped her shortly after she threw her Sidekick into the fountain. She had wanted to be free of her conflicting emotions, her empathy for Miranda's decisions at war with her outrage over those who had gotten hurt in the crossfire.

He had made her see Miranda's reasons for her actions. He had listed examples of how she'd rewarded him in the past, examples that led him to believe that she would make it up to him when she was able. Andy had shaken her head morosely, telling him that it was too late for her now. She had abandoned Miranda, and she was sure that she would have no job to return to. Nigel had merely patted her hand and tutted before taking her by the arm and calmly walking them back to the last show.

As they had crossed to their seats, blue eyes had seared her, an indefinable look in Miranda's eyes. Nigel had smoothed the way with some flimsy excuse as to where they had been, and nothing more was ever said. Several hours later, when Andy finally had returned to her hotel room, she had found a new phone waiting for her with messages from Christian Thompson, the well-known writer who had known of Irv's attempt to dethrone Miranda and had actively participated in the plot. She had resolutely ignored them, deleting them without hesitation.

She had never discussed those events with anyone, not wanting to even think about them. Her emotions were too volatile, too confusing. So, she settled into the routine of being the best assistant to Miranda that she could be, ignoring her family's complaints that she was not returning to Ohio for the holidays, the loud silences from her formerly closest friends, the unanswered questions of how Nigel could move on so easily or how she could continue to work as if nothing life-changing had occurred, and the bright bouquets she still received from the charming but shifty Christian Thompson.   

Both Serena's and Nigel's ideas were worth exploring. "What about you, Em? If you were Miranda's Secret Santa, what would you get her?" Andy asked.

"No idea. Something English. She's lost that part of herself, after all," she said with a flick of her wrist. "What?" she asked plaintively as they all stared at her in surprise.

"Something English?" Serena asked.

"Well, yes. She is from England, you know. I know she's Americanized, but we Brits do have certain loves. Good tea, for instance, instead of that weak tripe Americans drink. So, that's what I would do—reintroduce some of the things she has forgotten."

"Oh, I'm sure she would dig right in to bangers and mash!" Andy chortled. Nigel snorted inelegantly into his drink as Serena let loose a peal of laughter.

"Har, har," Emily practically snarled before giving in to the moment and laughing with them.

"Oh!" Andy said as her phone vibrated on the table. "The Book's ready. Got to go!" she said as she hopped up and pulled some bills out of her purse. "See you all tomorrow," she said with a quick smile as they shouted out their good-byes. With a wave she left.

Within half an hour, Andy crossed into Miranda's townhouse, her shoes clacking across the hardwood floor as she held the Book and dry-cleaning tightly. She placed them in their proper places, and all the while her ears were tuned toward any sounds that might indicate she was not alone.

Giggles on the stairs preceded her name being whispered by juvenile voices. Looking up through the middle of the oval staircase, she saw two smiling faces. "Andy, Mom said you are going to be here on Friday," one said.

"You can help us with her presents," the other one said.

"As if. You know your Mom much better than I do," Andy said, her mind revisiting the ideas given to her by her colleagues. She looked around the dim interior, studying the colors and artwork with a singular focus.

"But, you see her all the time, Andy. She might not like what we get her," whined the first one, breaking Andy's concentration.

_Cassidy. That's definitely Cassidy_ , thought Andy.

"I truly doubt that, sweetie. She'll love whatever you give her. But we'll make something on Friday, too, for her. We'll make something special," Andy promised. Hearing her name called, she quickly added, "Now go to bed. Your mom's calling me."

Swiftly making her way through the house, Andy found Miranda sitting in what Andy had dubbed her favorite chair, the chair she had found her in on the night she had offered Andy a place on her Paris team. She handed the Book to the casually dressed woman, trying hard not to gawk. She was wearing a light gray scoop-neck sweater, revealing much of her silky shoulder. Andy wondered whether she was wearing a strapless bra, or perhaps no bra at all. Andy shifted restlessly at the thought, her gaze skittering to the side table where she noticed a half-drunk glass of red wine rested.

"Do you have somewhere to be, Andrea?"

Eyes connected as Andy tried to keep her confusion at bay. "No. Nowhere. Do you need something, Miranda?"

Flicking her wrist, Miranda said, "Pour some wine for yourself and sit down."

Memories of the last time she drank wine made Andy blanch. Sitting down quickly, Andy said, "Oh. No. Well, I had a bad experience with wine recently. And I just had a cocktail, anyway."

"And how is our illustrious _Runway_ crew? Spirits high for the holidays? A four-day weekend is nearly unheard of, after all," Miranda drawled before taking a sip from her glass.

Smiling, Andy answered, "They are good. We were all trying to figure out our Secret Santa gifts, you know. Oh! I forgot I have Friday off! What time do you want me here Friday night?" Andy's thoughts tumbled from her tongue unchecked. That meant she had one less day to figure out what to give Miranda.

"Do you have somewhere else to be that night?" Miranda asked.

"No. I, um, I have no plans. I'm staying in town," Andy answered while picking at a nonexistent thread on her forearm. Silence filled the room, and a wine-filled glass appearing under her nose startled Andy enough to make her rear back. A pointed sigh changed her subdued thoughts, thoughts resulting from the realization that she was spending the holiday by herself, to those of panic as she realized she had lapsed while in Miranda's presence.

"Whatever your recent experience with wine might have been, I assure you that this blend is quite palatable," Miranda said as Andy reached for the proffered drink. She cautiously sniffed the wine, pleased to smell oak and vanilla. She sipped it, humming her approval. Looking up as she swallowed, she noted with surprise the affectionate smile on Miranda's face before she returned to her seat.

"Thank you," Andy said softly. "It tastes wonderful."

"Mmm. And what cocktail did you imbibe before you came here?" Miranda asked, her head cocked.

"Oh, just a Jamaican Coffee. Around this time of year I like the hot drinks," Andy admitted shyly.

"And what is in this Jamaican Coffee?" Miranda asked in a surprisingly teasing tone of voice.

"Well, coffee, of course." She saw Miranda's narrowed eyes and hurried on. "Rum and Kahlua. It's quite good. Ah, do you like any mixed drinks? I mean, um, do you drink them?"

"I usually stick to wine or champagne," Miranda answered before sipping more of her wine, surprising Andy. She had expected that Miranda would reprimand her for asking the question.

“No mixed drinks?” Andy said, surprised, then realized how that sounded.

Miranda merely stared at her blankly.

Andy ducked, feeling her face heat up.

"Come by at six sharp. We will eat together before I leave for the party," Miranda announced.

"Aren't they providing dinner?" Andy asked. Seeing Miranda's frown, she backtracked. After all, what did she think she was doing, questioning Miranda?! "Right. Six. That's perfect. Thanks." She took a gulp of the wine, holding the glass tightly in both hands.

"The girls were quite pleased to hear you would be here on Friday."

"Yeah. Yes. I talked to them briefly when I came in," Andy said, stopping when she saw Miranda's eyebrows rise. "It will be nice to spend time with them," she added with a weak smile, gratified to see the smirk that was aimed at her.

No matter what Nate or Emily or so many others might say about them, Andy liked the mini-Mirandas. After receiving the _Harry Potter_ manuscript, they had taken to waiting for Andy, talking to her many a night over the last few months. They were like any other twelve year olds, precocious, inquisitive, and surprisingly affectionate.

"Mmm. What will you do?" Miranda asked.

"Well, they mentioned wanting help with some stuff," Andy stalled, not wanting to lie but having an awfully hard time concentrating while those blue eyes were trained on her.

"Stuff?"  Miranda teased, officially blowing any half-coherent thoughts out of Andy's mind.

Blushing so strongly that Andy felt beads of perspiration forming on her forehead, she blinked repeatedly and nervously drank from her glass, disappointed to find that she had finished it, thereby embarrassing herself all the more since Miranda was watching closely her every move. Exasperated, Andy exhaled strongly enough that her bangs moved. "You'll just have to trust me. I promise to keep them and the house in one piece."

"I should hope so, Andrea," Miranda said. A pause. "I do trust you. You have proven yourself to me time and again. Even after you left me, you came back."

"Left?" Andy said, startled, watching Miranda's face become solemn as she nodded, an elegant hand swiping at the forelock that hid her eye.

"I saw you leave. And Nigel, dear Nigel, he did, too. Even after what I had just done to him, he still sought to help me by going after you. Bringing you back. But the choice, ultimately, was yours. And you chose. You came back."

"Yes," Andy agreed faintly. "I did."

"Why?"

Staring at Miranda, noticing the tension in the set of her shoulders, the question in her eyes, Andy found it hard to prevaricate. She couldn't say the real reason, though. Not the entire reason, at least. Certainly not.

"I, I knew I would regret it if I didn't. Walking away...I needed some time to think. This life, at times it's hard for me to understand, and it's easier to reject it. But, I realized that easier is not always better. And I was being a hypocrite by defending it to my friends and family one minute and then giving up on it the next." She looked earnestly into Miranda's eyes. "I don't want to give up." She dared to keep gazing into dark blue eyes, awaiting Miranda's reaction, hoping for the best. A sniff and slight nod came before her response, spoken so softly Andy instinctively leaned forward to hear.

"Nor do I." She looked away briefly before adding, "I would have gone after you. I was starting to when Nigel waved me off."

Shocked, Andy slumped in her chair, not caring how silly she looked. She felt flabbergasted. Miranda going after an assistant?

"You are not just an assistant, Andrea," Miranda said sternly, alerting her that she had spoken the words out loud. "I know you. In fact, truth be told, I might have reacted the same way were our positions reversed. You would have regretted leaving, though, Andrea. You are not a quitter, and it would have eaten at you, leaving that way."

Nodding dumbly, Andy sat up straighter. "So, you aren't angry with me?"

"Angry? Do you think I would have waited two weeks before reacting with anger? Do you think I would allow you to care for my daughters on Friday? To talk to them at night? Do you think we would even be having this conversation if I were angry with you?"

"Well, uh, no. That was a stupid question, I suppose," Andy admitted sheepishly, glancing up to see that familiar smirk firmly in place. "Okay then. Good. I'm glad."

Miranda rose, and Andy took her cue, hurriedly following the editor to the front door. "I am well aware that you have not fully explained why you returned. Perhaps at some point you will agree to tell me the rest," Miranda said as she opened the door. A blast of cold air made Andy shiver as she pulled her coat around her. Stiffening in surprise, Andy stood silently as Miranda placed a warm, woolen scarf around her neck, lifting the trapped hair out gently before tying the scarf in place.

Their eyes locked, and Andy marveled at how beautiful Miranda looked, her eyelashes emphasizing dark specks throughout mesmerizing blue irises. Miranda’s hands tucked the scarf into the v-shape of the coat's opening carefully. There the hands rested for a moment over Andy's pounding heart, and a look of understanding passed between them.

"At some point," Andy whispered. She saw the sweet smile on Miranda's face and gasped. That smile was for her alone.

"Good night, Andrea," Miranda whispered, her hand cupping Andy's flushed cheek for a moment before she stepped back.

"Good night," Andy said in a daze. A blast of the horn alerted Andy that Roy was still waiting. She clambered in, apologizing profusely for making him wait.

"It's okay, Andy. Don't want you walking in this weather. Miranda would have my head," Roy answered affably.

"Well, thanks," answered Andy. Sitting back in the warm Mercedes, Andy grinned, astounded by the events that had just transpired.

And one thought kept running through her mind, an incredible one, at that. Miranda would have gone after her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After much thought, Andy decided to use all the suggestions that she had received from her colleagues to fulfill her Secret Santa obligations. First off, she decided to do as Emily suggested and purchase some loose tea. Andy convinced Emily to let her complete some of the errands around town, claiming she needed to mail some packages to Ohio while she was out, which was true.

She did not add that she was visiting a specialty shop on the Upper West Side to purchase some black and herbal teas. It was certainly the easiest gift to get. She had some ideas for a piece of art from an unknown artist, but art was very personal. She needed more time to think about it. And Nigel's idea of giving Miranda something to indulge in...she was struggling with that one. What Miranda needed was time to decompress without any accompanying guilt. Maybe Andy could offer to take her girls out for a day trip on Friday while Miranda did something for herself.

Rushing back to the office, Andy promptly dropped next to her desk all the items she carried and strode into Miranda's inner lair to deliver a hot cup of coffee. When their eyes met, the conversation they shared the night before flooded her mind, and her heart fluttered.

"Andrea. There you are. I feared you had died or something," Miranda said melodramatically.

"Oh, uh, sorry, Miranda. The streets are busy so close to Christmas," Andy answered, not wanting to admit that she had used some of the time for her own personal errands. With a well-practiced wave, Miranda dismissed any further excuses.

"Do you have the Hermes scarves?" Miranda asked, and Andy was grateful for the reprieve. After receiving a long list of demands, Andy scurried back to her desk. In the afternoon, Miranda left for a meeting with the art department, and Andy used the opportunity to leave the teas on her desk. Not wanting Miranda to guess it was her, Andy went so far as to print out a Secret Santa tag instead of writing it. Stifling a smile when she heard Miranda opening the gift, Andy could not help but feel pretty damn happy when Miranda strode out at the end of the day, the gift bag in hand.

It did confuse her, though, at how she stared at Emily speculatively while Andy got her coat and bag. Emily didn't notice, however, and Andy shrugged it off once Miranda swept through the door.

The rest of the day flew by, and soon Andy found herself walking through the entrance to Miranda's home. Not hearing any of the Priestly ladies stirring, she placed the dry cleaning in the closet and the Book on the table across from the stairs. She had to admit, she was a bit disappointed. Just as she reached the front door, she heard her name called. Looking around, she saw Miranda standing at the top of the first floor stair landing. Smiling brightly, Andy waited to hear what Miranda needed, watching as the graceful woman floated down the stairs. She noticed how the rug on the stairs was a deep blue with white edgings, complementing the dark hardwood floors, and made a mental note.

"Come up here for a moment," Miranda directed before turning away.

Quickly ascending the stairs, Andy's mind shied away from memories of the last time she had climbed these stairs. This time she noticed the geometric patterns of the rug in blue, black, gray, and white. The furniture also consisted of these colors, and their shapes lent themselves to a sophisticated though comfortable appearance. Andy wanted so badly to explore the built-in bookshelves filled with all manner of books. She wanted to know what types of books Miranda read, what captured her interest, what she deemed worthy of her valuable time.

"Have a seat," Miranda directed. This time Andy felt no hesitation, sinking into a comfortable chair with a sigh. Her feet were sore, and she was tired. A few minutes' rest was certainly a welcome respite. She was sure Roy would not begrudge her the delay.

She automatically accepted the glass of white wine she was handed, smiling her thanks. It smelled of citrus and honey. Tasting it, Andy felt her eyes widen. It lingered on her tongue, and slid down her throat. "This tastes wonderful," Andy said.

"Yes. It is one of my favorites. Andrea, you mentioned last night that you had suffered a negative experience regarding wine recently. What did you mean?" Miranda asked bluntly.

"Well, I drank some wine while in Paris, and I didn't realize how potent it could be," Andy said nervously. "I guess I just don't have enough experience to know how wine can affect me."

"I see," Miranda said, and at the odd intonation in those two words, Andy looked up in confusion. Miranda's face reflected indifference, though, making it impossible for her to figure out what she meant.

"You also mentioned that you had no plans on Friday night. Does that extend to the holiday, too? You mentioned that you are staying in town," Miranda prompted. She sipped at her wine while her eyes bore into Andy, making her feel exposed.

"Um, yeah. I decided not to go back to Ohio. So, no, I have no plans to speak of. I mean, I don't know what I'm doing yet. I haven't really thought about it. Or talked to anyone," Andy answered awkwardly.

"Hmm. It's funny," Miranda said softly. "I thought I would be alone on Christmas, but then my girls, my beautiful girls, told me quite plainly that they did not wish for me to be alone. I don't know how I became so fortunate. God knows they have been through so much. And the press since Paris has been relentless. But, they have just rallied around me, making sure to tell me how much they love me. They are such blessings."

"It's nothing you don't deserve, Miranda," Andy said. And she meant it. She had been watching Miranda closely since Paris. She had noticed before then, of course, just how much she loved her children. But Andy was becoming pretty adept at recognizing to what lengths Miranda went to protect them, how her love translated into action. As forbidden as the thought was, Andy wished to be on the other end of such affection. With that thought still blazing through her mind, Andy boldly stared into skeptical eyes and said more forcefully, "You deserve to be happy, and they make you happy."

"Yes, they do," Miranda murmured, her eyes remaining on Andy as she leaned back against her chair, her head resting back far enough that Andy couldn't read the emotion in those mercurial eyes. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, broken only by their bodies shifting as they drank their wine, Miranda sat up straight. "Do you like tea?"

Eyebrows shooting up, Andy sputtered in surprise. "Uh, yeah. I mean, I drink it sometimes." She did not mention how she had kept some of the tea she had gifted Miranda so she could try it. She had never thought much about the different types of herbal and black teas. Nor had she ever tried loose tea. But she had printed directions on how to prepare it, thanks to the kind lady at the tea shop, and she intended to learn.

"How do you take it?" Miranda asked.

Shrugging, Andy said, "Milk and sugar. Isn't that the usual way? How do you drink yours?"

Surprisingly, Miranda answered, "Lemon and honey. Sometimes with milk and sugar. I suppose it depends on the type of tea and the time of day."

Andy thought about this answer and realized that not only did she have a lot to learn about wines, but also about teas. "Ah. I see." But she didn't. Not really. Not yet. Sipping the rest of her wine, she nearly choked when she saw the knowing smirk gracing Miranda's face. _Busted._

With a sigh, Miranda rose, and Andy hurried after her down the stairs. "Thank you for the wine," she said as she donned her coat and wrapped her newly acquired wool scarf around her neck.

"Which did you prefer, the red or the white?" Miranda asked as she pulled a pair of leather gloves from a drawer and handed them to Andy. They were lined with fleece she noted with delight before pulling them on.

"The white. But the red was good, too," Andy answered. "Goodnight, Miranda."

"Sleep well," Miranda said softly as she pulled the door open and nodded.

"You too," Andy replied, all but skipping out the door, down the stairs, and into the waiting car. Smiling, Andy leaned back, her mind already working hard to determine what to leave for Miranda the next day. It would have to be a piece of art. And judging from the townhouse and workplace, Andy was fairly confident she could find a wonderful piece at a pretty decent price. She had noticed that Miranda preferred symmetry, pairs, and classic lines.

She might have to break the cost rule, but it wasn't as if she was buying for that many people. No friends or boyfriend, anyway. And it would be worth it. Andy was going to be the best Secret Santa Miranda ever had, even if Miranda never found out it was her.

So, tomorrow. Awesome piece of art. No problem.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Two days. Two days to discover what Andrea likes, what interests she has, what type of gift would prove thoughtful. This was an opportunity to make her smile, to make her happy without having to deal with any awkwardness that might be attached to a gift given by an employer to her assistant. Miranda had dreaded the whole Secret Santa silliness until she found out that Andrea was to be the recipient. But what could she get the silly girl?

She obviously had no time for hobbies, and although her fashion sense had improved substantially, Miranda was aware that it was not and never would be her passion. Perhaps more casual clothes? Something comfortable? She seemed to like the wool scarf and leather gloves...Miranda was rather proud of herself with how she had given those gifts to Andrea so naturally. No doubt the girl would love a pair of Uggs, too. Miranda grimaced.

Striding out of the elevator, Miranda spouted off a list of details that needed to be attended to. Andrea scribbled furiously, nodding her head as Miranda settled in her chair. She studied Andrea, noticing the thigh-high Chanel leather boots, the draping costume jewelry, and the lines of the blouse that showcased a very becoming form. Not the fat, smart girl, then. Not fat at all. Not a girl. Smart though. Extremely smart.

"That's all," Miranda said slowly, watching with interest as Andrea left quickly. Running a finger over her lower lip, Miranda let her mind wander. She would get to the work soon enough. Right now, she decided to focus on what she knew about Andrea.

She was single. Kind. Intelligent. Quick. Determined. Hard-working. Turning slightly in her chair, Miranda opened her lower desk drawer and withdrew Andrea's employee file. Miranda looked at the resume and writing samples with new eyes. Andrea was a writer. A storyteller. A puzzle solver. An idealist. A champion of the weak. Smirking, Miranda put the paperwork away.

She had some ideas now but not much time to implement them. No matter. She was Miranda Priestly. Anything was possible. As far as the fifty-dollar limit—ridiculous and worth ignoring.

A smile tugged at her lips as she thought of the teas she received from her Secret Santa. English teas. No doubt from Emily. A thoughtful gift. Most years she received Starbucks coffee, cups, or gift cards. Easy. But Emily had put some thought into the gift.

Although this week's schedule was light, she still needed to attend a luncheon date with Donatella today. In the meantime, she needed to get Andrea out of the office so she could make some calls to arrange for her Secret Santa gift. "Andrea."

Arriving with an attentive look, Andrea looked ready to do anything, if Miranda so asked.

"I need those skirts for Monday's shoot, the spring Chanel accessories, and a present for Irving," Miranda allowed her distaste for the little man to color her voice and watched with some amusement as Andrea tried to hide her smirk. "And coffee for when I return from lunch. That's all."     

"Of course, Miranda. I've confirmed your lunch reservations for 1:00 PM. Roy will be ready for you at 12:30," Andrea said before turning away, intent on fulfilling Miranda's demands.

Nodding, Miranda waited until Andrea left the office before demanding Emily get Adam Moss on the line.

"Adam. How are you?"

"I am doing well. It's been a while since we last spoke," Adam said.

"Yes, it has. Time marches on whether or not we approve," Miranda agreed.

"How are you handling the press on your divorce? Are you okay, Miranda?" Adam asked.

Miranda was touched by his honest concern but chose to make light of the situation. "Oh, please! Rupert Murdock should write me a check for all the papers I sell for him. I am fine, I assure you."

"Well, I know a fabulous single man who would love to meet you," Adam said.

"No, no. I have no interest in meeting a nice man," Miranda quickly interrupted.

"Well then, I know a wonderful lady…"

"Or a nice woman, for that matter," Miranda said firmly, putting an end to that line of conversation. "And how is dear Daniel?"

"He's working hard. It’s a miracle we both have the long weekend off. If I have my way, we won't leave the house," Adam chirped.

Chuckling, Miranda imagined that they would hole themselves up, taking pleasure in the precious time they had together. She knew that she would do the same with her loved ones. Her darling daughters would be with her all weekend. She thought of Andrea, her beautiful face—deep brown eyes she could fall into, full lips, flushed cheeks, silky locks.

"Adam, I have a favor to ask of you, but I must insist that she not know this came from me. I believe you are short one freelance writer, and I happen to know of an up-and-coming writer whose style would serve your magazine well," Miranda began.

"Really? Who?"

"Andrea Sachs. She is one of my assistants, but I believe the topics she gravitates toward will not fit as well with _Runway_. I'd like for you to extend an offer to her to submit content. Will you?" Miranda asked.

"Of course. If you think she has talent, then I'm game. Give me her information, and I'll contact her tomorrow."

"Wonderful! I'll owe you," Miranda said, knowing that a promise of a favor from her would be valuable currency for Adam. And it was done. A Secret Santa gift Andrea would love, something that would propel her forward doing what she loved. Since she would not know it was a Secret Santa gift, though, Miranda would have to give her another gift.

But first she had a lunch to get to.

***

Two hours later Miranda entered her office to find a wrapped gift on her desk. _Another Secret Santa gift?_ Eyebrows raised, she tilted her head as she rounded her desk, eyes glued to the object. It was an odd shape, and poorly wrapped. She could hear Emily on the phone and Andrea typing away. Refocusing on the gift, Miranda took a moment to appreciate the wrapping paper—navy with silver ornaments across it—before carefully removing it. She gasped at what she saw. Copper-colored, smooth, polished metal formed in the shape of two women intertwined. Exquisite. Exceptional. Erotic.

 _Who is my Secret Santa?_ This was not from Emily. No. Perhaps Serena? She was a sensual woman, well-versed in appearances and art. Yet, she would not have sent her tea. It was puzzling. Running her finger over the statue, she took time to appreciate the artist's technique. Lifting it up, she noticed a small placard taped to the bottom with the artist's information and a title for the work: Infinite Connections. Smiling softly, Miranda decided she would have to find out more about this artist. She certainly showed promise.

The rest of the day passed quickly. By the time she left _Runway_ , it was snowing. Small snowflakes came down quickly, covering the roads enough to make them slick. The city looked new and pure. Roy navigated efficiently through the city and deposited her without incident while she wondered how Andrea would react to Adam's call tomorrow.

Entering her home, Miranda heard her children running down the stairs like a herd of wild elephants and winced. No matter how many times she told them, they could not seem to contain their exuberance when greeting her. Truthfully, she hoped they would always be so happy to see her. "Girls, how was your day?"

"Great. Cara took us shopping for presents. And then we went ice-skating in Central Park," Caroline said with excitement as Miranda shed her outerwear.

"That sounds wonderful, Bobbsey. And what will you do tomorrow?" she asked as they walked into the kitchen. She nodded toward the cook as she poured a glass of water for herself.

"We were going to wrap everything and then decorate the house. Except the tree. We want to do that with Andy," Cassidy said.

Surprised, Miranda looked at her two girls. "Why is that?" Usually they trimmed the tree together on Christmas Eve.

"Well, she won't be here on Sunday, and she has no tree or anything to decorate," Caroline said.

"How do you know?" Miranda asked, her brow furrowing.

"We texted her about Friday. She said she didn't have a tree, and since she was living alone it didn't make sense to get one. But, we think she really wanted one, so we're gonna share," Caroline said.

"Going to," Miranda automatically corrected.

"Going to," Caroline repeated.

"I bet she grew up with real trees. Maybe next year we can get a real tree too, Mom," Cassidy said. "I know they’re messy, but they smell nice," she added.

"Yes, Bobbsey, they do smell nice," Miranda said absently. It occurred to her that Andrea was going to spend Christmas entirely alone with no decorations, no tree, no family, no boyfriend, no one. Miranda felt her chest tighten. Andrea, such a tenderhearted, sweet woman, alone for the holidays. _Unacceptable!_ She deserved so much more.

Throughout dinner and while she watched a movie with her daughters, Miranda thought of Andrea, of how she had changed and matured during the course of their association. She was no longer naive and untried. She had become a valuable part of Miranda's team, but more than that, she had developed into a more thoughtful, sophisticated woman. Someone worth knowing.

Tomorrow would be a light day for Miranda, no meetings, lunches, or run-throughs. The next issue was well on its way, and many took off the week between Christmas and New Year. Even she had blocked out next week to devote to her family. And what would Andrea be doing? Miranda could not recall approving any days off for her assistant. In fact, she could only remember Andrea requesting one day off, months ago while Miranda was at a shoot on location in Florida. Her father was in town, and Miranda had ended up contacting her anyway when she was unable to fly back in time for her daughters' piano recital. Andrea had only asked for that afternoon off—not even a full day.

Making her take some vacation days would be the right thing to do, but the thought of not seeing the woman made Miranda feel a bit anxious. Perhaps if she took the same days off as Miranda was taking? And of course, she could still contact her. Andrea would take her calls. She always did. Except that one day when she had walked away in Paris. She had watched Andrea throw her phone into the fountain. But she had come back, and Miranda had arranged for a new phone to be in her hotel room by the time she had returned.

Shaking off those thoughts, Miranda looked out her window at the snow. Paris had been tough for many reasons. The attempted coup, the divorce papers, Andrea's temporary desertion. Andrea had surprised her. Her attempts to warn Miranda had impressed her, reinforced her belief that there was more to the woman than originally believed. Miranda had underestimated her. Yet, it became apparent during that trip that Andrea did not give up easily when her mind was made up. It begged the question, then, as to why she had left, why she had been ready to give up _Runway_ , the dreams of becoming a writer, and her. And although she had received a partial answer when she had asked directly why Andrea had returned, she knew there was more to it. If Miranda were so terrible in her eyes, why stay?

And that's what it came down to—why did Andrea stay? Was it fear that Miranda would blackball her within the publishing industry? Was it due to her own innate stubbornness? Her unwillingness to quit when she had not learned everything she needed to know to succeed within the industry? Or was it more personal?

Turning back toward the room, her eyes fastened on her newly-gifted statue, now situated on a side table near the fireplace in her personal sitting room. This was one of her favorite rooms, and the artwork blended perfectly. It was as if the gift-giver had been in this room before. Miranda could count on her fingers who at _Runway_ had spent time in this room. Not many.

Not Emily. Not Serena. So, neither could be her Secret Santa. Perhaps Nigel. Or Andrea.

How interesting that all roads seemed to lead to Andrea.

Hearing the front door open and close, Miranda smiled faintly. She could hear her girls hurrying to the stairs, intent on talking to her assistant. She gave them a few minutes before making her presence known and sending her girls back to their rooms.

"Andrea, this way," Miranda said before returning to the sitting room. Idly, she thought about Andrea's comment that she liked Jamaican coffee. She would make sure she had the right ingredients for Friday. Miranda opened a bottle of red wine, Cabernet this time. Andrea had not cared for the Pinot Noir. Perhaps the fuller, more complex texture of the Cabernet would do. She handed a full glass to Andrea before sitting in her favorite chair.

"Thank you," Andrea said, and Miranda nodded. "I, I probably shouldn't stay long. The snow is really coming down, and I don't like the idea of Roy waiting for me. It's getting really slippery outside."

Miranda felt a pang of disappointment. She knew Andrea was right. "Andrea, it has come to my attention that you have yet to take any time off throughout the course of your tenure except for one half day. Since I will be taking next week off to be with my girls, there will be no need for both you and Emily to work. So, it's settled. You will take your vacation time next week."

"What? But, but I have nowhere to go," Andrea sputtered.

"Why must you go somewhere? Use it to be a tourist, to sleep late, to clean, to write. Take some time for yourself while _Runway_ is relatively calm, before the next set of fashion shows begins," Miranda said impatiently.

"But, what if you need something next week?" Andrea persisted.

Miranda raised her eyebrows. _She wants to work in case I suddenly think of something that must be done?_ "Believe it or not, _Runway_ was able to function before you arrived. Emily is quite capable, and she has adapted to getting around on her crutches well enough that she can complete errands around town without taking the entire day," Miranda said in a no-nonsense voice.

"Oh. Um. Okay. Thanks. I, yeah, I am sure I will find something to do," Andrea said and sipped the wine. Her face lit up, and she took a larger sip. "This tastes great."

Smirking, Miranda tasted the wine, too, satisfied with the quality and complexity of the wine. "It is acceptable." She gazed at the brunette. "Finish up so you can go. I need you both to get home safely. Tomorrow will be more about tying up loose ends, and since we will both be on vacation next week, we will want to prepare accordingly." She watched as Andrea took two large sips and placed the empty glass on the side table.

Following Andrea to the door, she noticed the amount of snow that had fallen and sighed. "Wait." Andrea gave her a confused look but obediently stood in the hallway while Miranda reached into a rarely used closet and pulled out a bag, handing it to Andrea. She nearly smiled at Andrea's incredulous look as she pulled out a pair of Uggs. "You will ruin those Chanel boots in the snow. Wear those." 

"Th-thanks!"

Miranda watched as Andrea switched out the boots, and she was glad she had made the decision to have the boots delivered to her home today instead of to the office tomorrow. They were to be a Secret Santa gift, but she had another idea to fulfill that obligation.

"Miranda," Andrea began, and the soft look in her eyes made Miranda's breath hitch. Her heart began beating faster as the beautiful woman stepped into her space, a warm hand resting on her forearm. "Thank you. This was so thoughtful. And unexpected. I've begun to recognize just how thoughtful you are. Like with the scarf and the gloves, and now these boots and the vacation time. I realize you have your reasons for making everything seem coincidental and unimportant, but they are important to me, and I know you put some thought into these gestures." Miranda felt Andrea's hand squeezing her own just as soft lips grazed her cheek, and the whispered thanks so close to her ear took her breath away.

As Andrea stepped away, Miranda felt the irrational urge to pull her back. She liked feeling the woman close to her. It felt exciting and comforting. Instead she stared wordlessly as Andrea gave a little wave and left, Chanel boots tucked under one arm in the bag the Uggs had come in.

Smiling foolishly at nothing, she did not realize her girls had joined her.

"Did Andy just leave?" Cassidy asked, stirring Miranda out of her stupor.

"Yes, dear," Miranda answered as she locked the front door and turned off the hallway lights. "Let's go upstairs, shall we? We can pull out the decorations for Friday so that you will have more time for trimming the tree with Andrea."

"Yay! Does she know? Did you tell her? We didn't say anything yet," Cassidy said.

"No, I will bring it up tomorrow," Miranda said as they made their way up to the top floor where they stored the Christmas decorations.

"Did you get her a gift?" Caroline asked. "We bought her some art books, but we can sign it from all of us."

Smiling at the gesture, Miranda said, "I did get her something, so you do not need to sign my name. Thank you, though, darling. That is very thoughtful of you. What kind of art books did you get her?"

"On Michelangelo and some of the other Renaissance artists. She likes statues and paintings like that. She gave us some tips on them last month for our school project," Cassidy said. "What did you give her? Clothes?"

Smirking, Miranda nodded. "As a matter of fact, I did. A scarf, some gloves, and warm boots."

"All designer, I bet!" Caroline teased.

"What do you think?" Miranda said sarcastically, smiling as they giggled.

They found the boxes of decorations quickly and brought them to the living room where the artificial tree was set up near the front window. "I wish you could help, too," Cassidy said softly.

"You know I have to go to the work party, but I will return home as quickly as I can," Miranda promised.

"How come Andy doesn't have to go but you do?" Caroline whined.

"She's lucky and can be excused, but I cannot," Miranda said ruefully. "Now, why don't we wrap Andrea's gifts so that they will be ready for tomorrow?" With hearty shouts of approval, they ran to their rooms to retrieve the books. With another smile, Miranda admitted to herself that Andrea had somehow won over the twins. And her.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

When Andrea came into her office without being summoned at the end of the day, Miranda did not mind. She had been expecting a visit, after all, if not due to the Secret Santa gift she had left on Andrea's desk then certainly for Adam's call that she overheard earlier in the day.

"Do you have a minute?" Andrea asked breathlessly, and how could Miranda hope to refuse her when she looked so happy, so radiant? She nodded and gave her full attention to her, watching with satisfaction as Andrea sat down in the chair and practically vibrated with excitement.

"Miranda, Adam Moss called me today and invited me to submit articles. Adam Moss! I can hardly believe it!" A look of nervousness overtook the excitement, concerning Miranda. "But I wanted to make sure you're okay with it. I mean, if you have a problem with my writing for him or anyone else, just tell me and I won't."

Surprised, Miranda felt her chest expand with affection. This darling girl was asking her permission. She gazed at Andrea, warmed in so many ways by what she saw. "You have my blessing, Andrea. Try not to forget the little people as you make a name for yourself," she said softly.

"Little people," Andrea scoffed with a giggle. "Please! And it's not like I'm going anywhere! It's just some freelance work."

"Yes, but you will do well, and the time will soon come, sooner than you think, when you will need to leave _Runway_ and concentrate on your craft."

"But, well, that's not today, though," Andrea said, a bit of the bright glow dimming.

This was not what Miranda wanted. At all. "Don't fret, Andrea. You are right, not today. Or tomorrow. And speaking of tomorrow, my girls are extremely excited. They have decided to trim the tree with you, if you have no objections. I will join you as soon as I can, but do not wait for me. And remember to be on time for dinner."

"Right. Six o'clock. I'll be there," Andy said softly. "With Uggs on," she added with a grin. Miranda couldn't help but smile back.

"Good. Now, if you do not mind," Miranda said acerbically, her _Runway_ face and voice firmly back in place, "I have a magazine to run." She gazed through her eyelashes as Andrea quickly left the office, wondering why her heart ached just a little bit. She would have to push it aside for now, as she really did have several tasks to complete before she left for the day. But she allowed herself one last glance through the door, knowing that Andrea was close by, before returning to the myriad responsibilities laid out before her.

***

The door opened, finally, and Andrea swept through the house to make her deliveries. It was actually quite early, just after seven, but the house felt empty since her daughters were at a holiday party across town to kick off their vacation. Miranda wasted no time calling out for Andrea. The blinding smile she received left her speechless. She waved toward the open bottle of port and tried to control her careening emotions as Andrea got settled.

"I received the most wonderful Secret Santa gift today!" Andrea bubbled.

"Oh?"

"Yes! Two leather volumes with handmade blank pages and Venetian glass medallions on the front of each book. They are gorgeous! I can't wait to use them."

"I am sure you will make good use of them, Andrea," Miranda said. She was pleased that Andrea liked the books. She had tracked them down at a stationary store that specialized in unique gifts. Andrea did not realize that another gift currently awaited her in her apartment. Miranda was sure that she would enjoy the small Douglas fir, decorated tastefully, and the additional present of a Mont Blanc pen waiting to be opened. She did not make a habit of breaking into employees' homes, but in this case, she felt confident that she would be forgiven. It was doubtful, at any rate, that Andrea would even realize that she was her Secret Santa.

"I was also rather pleased by the gifts my Secret Santa bestowed on me. That statue, for one," Miranda said as she nodded toward where she had placed it. It really was a beautiful statue. "And I also received some English teas—quite thoughtful." She looked at Andrea speculatively. "I don't suppose you know the identity of my gift-giver?"

"Oh, uh, I can't tell you, Miranda. That would ruin all the fun and probably embarrass the person. The whole point is to be able to give the gift freely without expecting a thank you or worrying about any work relationship complications."

"Hmm." Miranda chose not to push. She was fairly certain it was Andrea, and for whatever reason, she did not want to confess...probably for the same reason she had not revealed herself as Andrea's Secret Santa. There was a freedom attached to anonymity. "I see your point."

"So, um, I'm glad I am getting the chance to see you. Caroline and Cassidy asked if I could take them to some stores tomorrow, and I thought it might be fun to go by the Met to check out the European sculptures and paintings. If you don't mind. I thought you might like the time for yourself," Andy offered.

Miranda studied Andrea, trying to determine why she was offering to spend the day with her girls. It was curious. Before she could ask why, her phone rang. "Yes?"

"Good evening. This is Jessica from Bliss Soho. I am calling to confirm Miranda Priestly’s holiday spa treatment scheduled for tomorrow."

"I did not schedule any such thing," Miranda responded.

"No? It says here that it was a gift purchase from...Oh! Your Secret Santa," Jessica said with a small laugh. "Well, aren't you fortunate! Anyway, you'll need to check in by one and allow for about three and a half hours. You are scheduled for a facial, a pedicure, and a massage. So, we'll see you tomorrow?"

"Um, yes."

"Have a good night!"

Miranda stared at Andrea. "In an interesting turn of events, my Secret Santa scheduled time at the Bliss Soho for me tomorrow. How fortunate that you have offered to spend time with my daughters," she said slowly.

“Oh, yeah? That's great! You deserve some time to unwind," Andrea said brightly.

"That's an expensive gift, Andrea. Certainly over the gift-giving limit, I dare say," Miranda said. She was quite certain now that Andrea was her Secret Santa. The thrill she felt at knowing how much time and effort Andrea had devoted toward the gifts battled against her concern that Andrea had spent too much on her. She did not need to be bought. She valued Andrea's time. More so each day. She did not want Andrea to believe that Miranda thought less of her just because she was not rich. After all, it took Miranda a long time to get to where she was.

"Miranda, people at _Runway_ have connections. Perhaps it wasn't as expensive as you might think. Spas and fashion, they attract the same clientele, or at least they try to. And let's face it, having you there will be a feather in their cap. So, just enjoy it, Miranda," Andrea said softly, her hand covering Miranda's briefly as her clear brown eyes willed her to accept the gift.

How could she refuse her?

Nodding, Miranda said, "Be here by half past eleven so we can all have lunch together."    

 "Lunch and dinner. I'm one lucky girl," Andy crowed. She drank the rest of her port and rose. "I’d better go. I have some errands to run."

Following silently, Miranda opened a side drawer near the front door and withdrew a wool hat that matched the scarf. She reached forward to open the door as Andrea buttoned her coat and tied her scarf. The maroon color of the scarf complimented Andrea's dark hair and chestnut-colored eyes, Miranda noticed. "It is cold out, Andrea. You'd better wear this, too," Miranda said as she gently placed the hat over Andrea's silky tresses, tucking some stray hairs into place. As she began to step back, her hands were captured and held against Andrea's cheek. They stood that way for an endless moment, eyes searching each other's, before Andrea kissed the back of one hand and released them.

"Pleasant dreams, Miranda," Andrea whispered.

"Goodnight, Andrea," Miranda whispered just as softly.

She stood in front of the closed door long after Andrea left, just allowing herself to experience the closeness she had felt with Andrea. Andrea, who knew her so well. She had taken the time to see behind the professional mask. She knew of her roots in England, her taste in art, and her need to rejuvenate after the buildup of daily stresses. She freely offered her time to her girls, and never asked for anything in return.

It was quite remarkable. _She_ was quite remarkable.

Returning to the sitting room, Miranda began to review the Book. She wanted to get it done tonight so that she could devote her time to her daughters. _And to Andrea._ Although it would be inappropriate, not to mention downright out of character, for Miranda to invite Andrea to spend the weekend with them, Miranda felt the compulsion to extend such an invitation. Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought.

It might be acceptable to invite her to Christmas dinner, though. Or perhaps to the theatre next week for a matinee show. The girls had mentioned several times their desire to see _Mary Poppins_. She had no doubt that Andrea would enjoy seeing it, too.

The ringing of her phone broke her concentration. She was close to finishing her review of the Book and did not try to keep the annoyance from voice. "Yes?" she barked.

"Oh. Miranda. I am so sorry to bother you. It can wait until tomorrow," Andrea said, her voice clearly betraying her nervousness.

"No, no. That will not be necessary, Andrea." Miranda closed her weary eyes and leaned back in her chair, happy for the break and even happier to hear Andrea's sweet voice.

"Well, I just wanted to...that is...I returned to my apartment and found the most wonderful tree filling up most of the place," Andrea gushed.

"It is a small apartment, Andrea," Miranda said playfully, recognizing that Andrea had guessed her role as Secret Santa.

"Ha-ha. No news there. I wanted to thank you. For the tree, for the beautiful decorations, for the Mont Blanc pen, and the handmade journals. You are the best Secret Santa I have ever had. You, you gave me what I could not give myself, and you thought about what I would like. I am betting that you also arranged for Adam Moss to contact me, too, but you don't have to tell me," she added softly. "Thank you, Miranda. You made me feel really special."

"No more than you did for me. You took the time to look behind my professional mask. Your gifts were thoughtful, and you went well beyond a Secret Santa's duties. So, it seems we were both fortunate," Miranda said.

"Yeah. Well, I'll let you get back to reviewing the Book. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, tomorrow. I suggest you bring an overnight bag so that you can sleep over if the night gets away from us," Miranda said in an even voice. Andrea took so long to answer that Miranda began to regret her words.

"I will," Andrea said in an odd voice. "I, okay. I'm looking forward to tomorrow. Sweet dreams."

"And to you," Miranda said and disconnected the call. Smiling, Miranda finished her work quickly and used the rest of her time to wrap a few gifts for her daughters. When she finally sank into bed, she found that she was still smiling. And the memory of Andrea's sweet voice lured her into a restful sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

After a luxurious day spent at the spa, Miranda felt like a new woman. She was more relaxed than she had felt in years. All because of Andrea's thoughtfulness. Andrea, who was with her children at home, according to the text she received from Caroline five minutes ago.

Miranda felt the irrational urge to demand Roy drive faster. She wanted to be home. She needed to see Andrea. To express her gratitude and her happiness, two emotions that were normally so foreign to her. Yet, Andrea effortlessly evoked such feelings, as well as the yearning to be closer to the captivating woman.

Smiling while sitting in the back seat of the town car, Miranda remembered how Andrea had looked when she arrived at 11:15 sharp, snowflakes sprinkled generously over her body and face flushed. She had looked extremely appealing. So much so that Miranda had pulled the younger woman into her arms and held her for long moments, just needing the connection. When Miranda released Andrea, the stunned expression on her face had worried her. Those worries were soon put to rest. Throughout lunch Andrea made a point of drawing Miranda into the conversation as it ebbed and flowed. Caroline and Cassidy spoke of every subject that seemed to cross their minds, and Miranda was fascinated by how comfortable Andrea was with them.

"Pick me up at nine," Miranda directed Roy as she got out of the car. She wondered whether it would begin snowing again. Hopefully it would hold off until after she returned from the party. Carefully ascending the stairs, Miranda watched the door open, and light spilled into the darkness. Andrea stepped into the opening, the backlighting acting as a halo around her body while shadowing her visage. As Miranda drew level, she looked into warm, dark eyes and smiled. Andrea stepped aside, ushering Miranda in and closing the door against the cold.

"Brrr!" Andrea voiced, shivering before stepping forward and aiding Miranda as she shed her coat. With practiced ease, Andrea hung it up in the front closet. Her smile stopped Miranda in her tracks. "You look so relaxed," Andrea exulted. "I am so glad!"

Miranda was surprised to find herself enveloped in strong arms. Andrea held her tightly, and Miranda relaxed into the embrace. After a few moments, her mind caught up, and she wound her arms around Andrea's waist. "Thank you, Andrea," Miranda said softly.

“You’re welcome,” Andrea murmured. She pulled back with a smile that burned away any remaining chills the cold weather had created, and pulled her forward gently. “Dinner is just about ready. I hope you don’t mind, but we decided to cook it instead of having Lillian do it. I know it won’t be as good, but we all took part in preparing it, and it was made with love.”

Glancing over at that word, Miranda smiled at how shy Andrea suddenly seemed. “I am sure it will taste wonderful.”

“Mom!” two girls shouted simultaneously as they entered the kitchen.

“Bobbseys,” Miranda greeted them, stepping forward to receive their hugs. “Were you good for Andrea?”

“Of course,” Caroline said with a grin. “We went shopping.”

“And to the museum,” Cassidy added.

“And I can’t wait to hear all about it over dinner. Why don’t you both go wash up so we can eat?” she suggested. Miranda watched them run up the back staircase, not that she needed to with all the noise they made. Turning to Andrea, she suddenly felt a bit uncertain. She had wanted so badly to get home to her girls, to Andrea, but now she was unsure how to act.

As seemed to happen more and more often, though, Andrea sought to put her at ease, to take care of her. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee? Wine?”

Miranda lifted an eyebrow, amused that Andrea was offering her beverages in her own home. _As if she were some sort of servant._ “Relax, Andrea. You are off the clock.”

“Oh, I know. I just want to, um, help you, I guess,” Andrea said, looking embarrassed.

“I can see that. Let me open a bottle of wine for us. What did you make for dinner?” Miranda asked, wondering what type of wine to retrieve.

“A chicken stir-fry with vegetables and soy sauce. It’s really rather simplistic. We probably should have just let Lillian cook.” A panicked look came over her face. “I can cook something else, or…I’ll just throw a salad together.”

“Andrea,” Miranda said as she stepped forward to catch her hand. “Don’t be absurd. I am sure the stir-fry will be very tasty. Stop fretting.”

“I just, I want to um, please you. Make you happy.” Andrea shook her head. “You seem happier lately, and I would hate to do anything to upset you, to disappoint you. See! I made you frown!”

“Shh. Andrea, I am frowning because you are so concerned for my welfare that it is causing you to become anxious. Andrea, we are not at work, and your being here with my children and with me has nothing to do with _Runway_ or the expectations I have of my employees.” Miranda ran the back of her fingers across a sculpted cheekbone and firm jaw. “I _am_ happier lately, and you have _not_ disappointed me. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth.” Miranda could hear her girls clomping down the stairs. “We will discuss this more later.”

“Let’s eat!” Cassidy said excitedly.

“I’m starving!” Caroline agreed.

“Did Andy tell you that we helped? We cut up the vegetables,” Cassidy said as she poured water for everyone.

“Andy showed us how to make stir fry, Mom!” Caroline said while holding the dishes as Andrea placed food on each one.

Opening a Pinot Gris, Miranda allowed the excited chatter to flow over her. She found herself smiling, satisfied to hear her girls happy while acknowledging Andrea’s rather large role with their moods. And with hers.

The chicken stir-fry was delicious, and when she said as much, their beaming faces pulled at her heartstrings. It annoyed her that she had to leave them to get ready, that she had to attend a silly work party, but she was determined to return home as soon as possible.

An hour later Miranda left her room, not a hair out of place. She wore a dark green velvet dress with a wide neckline and long sleeves. The dress flowed down to her high-heeled shoes, highlighting her shape in a complimentary fashion. She knew she looked good, and she felt a frisson of excitement race through her as she anticipated Andrea’s appreciative glance.

Hearing the three other females in the house in the family room, Miranda detoured. She stood in the doorway, watching as they pulled out various decorations, conversation flowing easily as they picked through all the offerings and playfully bickered over what to use. As if feeling her presence, Andrea looked up, and Miranda was gratified to see the obvious effect she had on Andrea. For long moments they gazed at each other. Andrea’s eyes roamed Miranda’s body hungrily, and Miranda could feel her body reacting. The way Andrea’s eyes darkened, lips opened, cheeks flushed! She could see her breathing getting faster, her nipples begging for Miranda’s touch. _Jesus!_ Miranda went so far as to step forward, her stomach clenching and her mouth watering. It was only Cassidy’s high voice cutting through the haze of desire that stopped Miranda in her tracks.

Throwing an apologetic look at Andrea, who appeared rather stunned, Miranda cleared her throat delicately to garner her daughters’ attention. “Girls, I have to go. Be good for Andrea. We wouldn’t want to scare her off,” Miranda said.

“Mom, did you ask her about…” Caroline asked, staring at her pointedly.

“Not yet, but I will,” Miranda said as she patted her hair.

“Can’t we now?” Cassidy whined.

Normally Miranda would have reprimanded her daughters for such behavior, but in this case, she could understand their desire to make sure Andrea would be here for Christmas. After all, Miranda felt the same desire, although for perhaps more prurient reasons.

“Andrea, the girls and I were wondering whether you would like to come over for Christmas dinner on Monday,” Miranda said softly.

“Yeah, it will be great, Andy!” Cassidy encouraged.

“You’ll come over, won’t you, Andy?” Caroline asked.

Miranda watched as the girls encouraged Andrea, but it was the questioning eyes that connected with hers that prompted Miranda to add, “We enjoy your company, Andrea.”

“I’d love to. Can I bring something? Dessert? An appetizer?”

Thinking of how Andrea could fulfill either category quite well and no doubt quite deliciously, Miranda smirked before replying, “Just yourself, Andrea. And this time, although I look forward to tasting more of your cooking in the future, allow Lillian to prepare the meal so that you can relax with us.”

Andrea’s wonderful full smile lit up the room. “Sure. Okay. Thank you for inviting me.”

Knowing she could not delay any longer, Miranda said her farewells and descended the stairs. Andrea followed, helping Miranda don her coat. “You look stunning,” Andrea said, her hands buttoning up the heavy overcoat. Miranda could see that Andrea wanted to kiss her, and she felt herself leaning forward, wanting it, too.

“Andy, where are you?” Cassidy yelled down. Andrea pulled back quickly, and Miranda grimaced. With a curt nod, she left before she gave in to the attraction and kissed the alluring woman senseless. She needed to control herself. It would not do to move too fast.

Andrea deserved consideration. Now that she was accepting these rapidly growing feelings for Andrea, Miranda wanted to make sure that when she acted upon them, and the last few minutes made it clear that she would be acting upon them soon, Andrea would be receptive. More importantly, she wanted it to be more than a mere holiday fling, a passing dalliance, or a selfish indulgence. She would not characterize Andrea as the scratcher of an itch. No, Miranda's feelings were becoming progressively stronger, and she could see that the attraction was mutual.

***

The next few hours passed quickly for Andy, Caroline and Cassidy proving to be funny, smart, and sweet. They told her countless stories about the seemingly endless number of Christmas decorations. Many were gifts from well-known designers and celebrities. Just as many, surprisingly, were handmade trinkets that they and Miranda had made over the years. The more she learned about Miranda, the more alluring she became.

They did not actually decorate the tree, though, choosing instead to create Christmas gifts for Miranda from the girls, as Andy had promised. It took some time, but they were pleased with their efforts. They had become very excited by Andy's idea to make bead napkin rings and shadow boxes. They chose to use navy blue, robin blue, and white for the napkin rings. They came out beautifully, and Andy was quite happy with the results.

The shadow box took some strategizing to create. They decided to use some of the Christmas ornaments in the shape of fashion accessories since they had so many. By the time they finished, the box was filled with miniature Prada shoes, Coach purses, Hermes scarves, and even a small pair of Versace sunglasses. In the background they had pasted names of the top fashion designers. Andy was sure that Miranda would love their efforts.

Cassidy ran into the room, giggling.

"What's so funny?" Andy asked with a smile.

"Look what we have! We can hang it in the doorway," she exclaimed, holding out a sprig of mistletoe.

"Oh, really? Doesn't it worry you that only a few people actually walk in here? I mean, can you imagine Cara leaning in to smooch your mom? Or Lillian?" Andy teased, chuckling as their eyes widened comically. Soon they were rolling on the floor, holding their sides as they laughed loudly, and Andy could not help but join in.

"What's this?" a melodious voice asked.

Swinging her eyes around, Andy felt her breath catch as her eyes feasted on Miranda. _God, she's so beautiful!_ Andy had seen Miranda dressed in the best couture many times over the last nine months, but lately, she couldn't help but respond differently. Lately she noticed with unflagging interest the alluring lines of Miranda's body, the bottomless blue of her eyes, the regal silvery-white locks, and the sway of her hips. She simply couldn't get enough.

Before Andy could think of answering, Miranda was next to her, hand extended toward Cassidy, who hastily handed over the mistletoe. "And what were you planning to do with this?"  Miranda drawled.

"Nothing," Caroline said. "Right, Cass?" she added, elbowing her sister in the side.

"Ow! Um, right. We were just showing Andy," Cassidy added.

"Really?" Miranda said, her face reflecting her disbelief.

She turned and hung the mistletoe above the door, surprising Andy. All she could think about was how to get Miranda under the door without seeming too obvious. Miranda stood under it, as if taunting Andy with the fact that if she were brave enough, she could claim the kiss she'd been denied earlier. When their eyes connected, Andy knew she was being teased. Miranda smirked at her, one hand on her hip and head tilted. Her demeanor clearly said, _Come get me, if you dare._

Gathering her courage, Andy rose from the floor and approached Miranda. She stared into sparkling eyes and silently pleaded for direction. Miranda's countenance softened into an affectionate look before she cupped Andy's cheek and slowly kissed her other flushed one. Andy's breath hitched at the feeling of those soft lips lingering. She inhaled Miranda's distinctive scent, the product of a special perfume made especially for her, and felt her legs weaken.

"Mom, you're not doing it right!" Caroline complained.

Andy stared at Miranda, whose face was mere inches away, and grinned. Slowly, Andy tilted her head, her eyes jumping from parted lips to penetrating eyes. As their breath mingled, Andy felt the hand on her cheek slide to the back of her neck. Andy shivered, and her eyes slipped closed. Moments later she felt Miranda gently brushing their lips together, and Andy could focus on nothing other than the sensation of those soft, soft lips fleetingly touching hers. She realized rather suddenly that she had wanted this for a long time, had been building up to this moment.   

As she felt Miranda pull back, Andy's eyes fluttered open. She gazed into darkened eyes and had to fight the urge to lean forward and claim those lips for a more passionate lip-lock. After all, they had an audience.

Taking a deep breath, Andy said loudly, "Huh. Well. That was by far the best Christmas gift I've ever received," stirring Caroline and Cassidy into a fit of giggles. She stared into smiling eyes.

"Oh, Andrea," Miranda murmured. "It's not Christmas, yet."

Speechless, Andrea felt heat race through her at the promise in those words. After another affectionate look, Miranda walked past Andy and joined her daughters beside the decorations. Andy watched as she hung some of the ornaments on the tree, thankful she could just look at the woman without fear of being ridiculed. Several minutes passed before Miranda turned to her and held out a hand in clear invitation.

By the time they finished, the tree looked festive and the girls were tired. It was late, but they were reluctant to go to bed.

"Andy, you're sleeping over, right?" Cassidy said from her supine position on the floor.

"Yup," Andy said as she nodded.

"Maybe you can show us how to make pancakes tomorrow for breakfast," Cassidy suggested.

"Cassidy, she is our guest," Miranda said firmly. "I will make breakfast."

"All right!" Caroline exclaimed.

"Now, it's time for bed. Off you go. I'll be in to say good night in a few minutes," Miranda said.

"Good night, Andy. I had fun today," Cassidy said.

"Yeah. That was great!" Caroline added before they both ran out of the room.

The room became much smaller and much warmer as Andy's attention focused on Miranda. She watched her move to the window, staring through it to the street below. Andy joined her, standing close enough that they shared body heat.

"You asked me why I returned," Andy said softly. "That morning in the car, you said that I had impressed you, that you saw a great deal of yourself in me. That I could see beyond what people wanted and needed and choose for myself." She paused, trying to gather her thoughts.

"You denied it. I suppose being compared to me was quite the insult."

"It, it was like I was looking into a mirror but instead of seeing what you saw, I only saw the flaws. My flaws. I couldn't get past how strong and fierce you needed to be to survive in the business world, and I rebelled at the comparison because I wasn't ready to see the truth. That you were right."

"Then why, when you were so opposed to being like me, did you return?" Miranda asked, her eyes still fastened on the window. She could hear the hurt in Miranda's voice, and Andy knew she had better get this right—she'd better explain this properly.

Andy looked at their reflection, her eyes tracing Miranda's visage, noting how the lighting within the room distorted her beauty. "I realized why I was upset. It wasn't due to what happened to Nigel or even the realization that I had done the same thing to a lesser extent to Emily." She turned toward Miranda and waited until their eyes connected directly.

"I realized I had run away because I was afraid that I _wasn't_ like you, that your compliment, your approval of me, would be withdrawn when you realized that I hadn't had a choice—not with betraying Emily or going to Paris or trying to warn you. I took those actions because they kept me near you. And that was essential to me. It was never a choice. So, I didn't feel strong or fierce. I felt like a fraud. Nigel, he helped me see that I was mistaken. He explained what you meant. He showed me that I could have quit at any time, but I hadn't. I _had_ chosen to do all those things, so I was strong and fierce. And so, in my mind," Andy smiled, "I had no choice but to return. I chose to return for the same reason I had made all my choices having to do with you—I needed to be near you."

Miranda smiled tenderly at Andy, her hand running up Andy's arm as she stepped forward. Her other hand slid around Andy's waist, and Andy willingly allowed herself to be drawn into a tight hug, tucking her head in the crook of Miranda's neck. She could feel Miranda's fingers sifting through her hair, and she sighed.

"Thank you, Andrea. You are quite a gift," Miranda said softly. Andy could hardly hear her over her pounding heart. She wanted so much. Feeling Miranda's arms around her sparked her libido. She gently kissed Miranda's neck, opening her mouth to taste the sinfully silky skin. Andy moaned as she felt Miranda tremble under her lips.

"Andrea, I would like nothing better than to give in to this attraction. There is no point in denying our connection, and I do not have any intention of doing so," Miranda said breathlessly before slowly drawing away. "But, Andrea, I feel we need to explore these feelings slowly. I am in the beginning stages of a divorce, you have just broken up with your boyfriend, and there is much at risk—not the least of which are our hearts. I want these feelings to grow, to deepen, to last. Please believe me when I say that I am not rejecting you or these feelings. I just want us to take our time."

Not able to suppress the joy she felt, Andy smiled widely. "Miranda, we can go as slowly as you want. I want to spend time with you and the girls. Get to know you. There's no rush. Really."

Miranda's smile, clearly reflecting her relief and joy, stirred deep emotions within Andy. She wanted to make her smile that way as often as possible.

"Now, I have to say good night to my girls," Miranda said as she took Andy's hand and walked across the room. She paused at the door and shot a mischievous look at Andy, just giving her enough warning before swooping in for a kiss.

Unlike their first kiss, this was no mere brushing of lips. This one was much more exploratory and passionate. It reassured Andy that Miranda was attracted to her, that she desired her. Andy was tempted to deepen the kiss, but it was too soon, and she wanted to respect Miranda's wish to go slowly. Ignoring her raging desires, Andy focused on enjoying the feel of Miranda's mouth against hers, the hand once again running through her hair, the addictive taste of her breath, and the promise of more.

Smiling into the kiss, one thought reverberated through Andy's hazy brain: _Miranda gives the best gifts. Ever._  


	7. Chapter 7

Epilogue

Another dull affair. Honestly, Miranda loved dressing up, loved seeing the movers and shakers in the fashion industry, loved knowing she was on top. Yet, the sparkle had faded somewhat in the wake of having to defend her kingdom again and again. She had other priorities in her life, and she wanted to focus on them.  For instance, right now she would much rather be at home with her children and with Andrea.

Long brown locks elegantly arranged in an up-do caught Miranda's eye, and she sighed. Now she was seeing Andrea everywhere. She cocked her head, her eyes devouring the beautiful Chanel dress, not even available yet. How did this woman have it? And how was it that it fit so perfectly?

Just then she turned around, and Miranda felt her eyes widen in surprise.

She hadn't seen the woman all week. In fact, they were planning to spend time together this weekend while the girls were with their father. Caroline and Cassidy were rather cross with her for that. They missed Andrea, too.

Their eyes connected, and Andrea smiled coquettishly while batting her eyelashes, then she turned away, laughing at some joke a dashing young man made. Miranda practically growled.

This was her own fault. Andrea had left her employ at her prompting nearly three months ago, spreading her wings and writing articles for _New York Magazine_ , _Time_ , and _Rolling Stone_. She was being published enough to support herself, and Miranda had mentioned to her the idea of procuring the services of an agent so she could focus solely on her writing instead of self-promotion. Of course, Miranda would willingly float her articles, but Andrea was stubborn enough to insist she make her way alone.

It made Miranda incredibly proud.

Right now, though, she felt jealous and possessive, and she had no one to blame but herself. Still in the middle of divorce proceedings, Miranda had not given in to her very strong desire to make love with Andrea. Oh, they had come close several times. But, Miranda would stop them, holding Andrea tightly as they calmed their breathing. Honestly, she had no idea why Andrea put up with her. She was beautiful, intelligent, sexy. She could have anyone. _Why me?_

She had made up her mind, though. This weekend she would not stop the luscious kisses or exploring hands. They would cross that final line, and she would claim her prize. Her Andrea. She loved the younger woman, and although she feared driving her away, destroying this relationship as she had those with her past husbands, she had to believe that Andrea would stick with her and the girls.

Another handsome man made his way to Andrea's side, and Miranda barely held back another growl of frustration. Andrea was quite the catch, and no one knew she was unavailable, save for a few close friends.

"Here," she heard, a flute of champagne thrust under her nose. "Take a sip and bring this one to her. They'll back off once you are by her side, and if not, you may want to stake your claim," Nigel said, his voice holding humor but his eyes serious. Nodding, Miranda mused that it was time and did exactly as directed, gracefully crossing the room.

"Andrea," Miranda said softly as Andrea turned, her face betraying her surprise and pleasure.

"Miranda! You look magnificent." Her eyes were sincere as she leaned in for air kisses. "I'm looking forward to this weekend," she whispered against Miranda's ear.

"My darling, you look good enough to eat, and I am so hungry," Miranda purred pulling back and smirking as a becoming flush rapidly traveled across her chest, neck, and face. Miranda licked her lips, feeling ravenous. She silently passed the other flute of champagne to Andrea and lifted hers to clink them together. They sipped while eyes remain connected, Andrea's expressive ones voicing questions.

"Excuse me," that same handsome man interrupted them with a smile. He half turned so that his back was to Miranda and laid a hand on Andrea's shoulder. "I was about to leave, Andy. Would you like a ride home?" he asked suggestively.

Miranda promptly stepped forward so that her side was flush with Andrea's and slid her arm around her waist possessively. "I will give her a ride," she said. "Have a good evening," she added frostily before Andrea could say a word. She glared at the man while he muttered something unintelligible and left. She realized that several people were staring at them, and her hand was resting rather low on Andrea's hip. She turned her head and stared into shocked eyes. "Come home with me, Andrea?"

"Yes! I'd love to," Andrea answered in a dazed voice.

"Let's go," Miranda said, not removing her hand as they glided across the room. The new Andrea handed them their wraps without a word, and Roy opened the car door with a smile for them after they made their way outside.

Once in the backseat with the privacy window up, Andrea spoke. "My God, Miranda! I can't believe you did that! Aren't you afraid others will figure out that we're together?"

"That was the point, Andrea. I cannot abide watching so many damnable men, and some women too, making passes at you. Hopefully, now they will think twice," Miranda answered, her eyes fixed on Andrea's worried face.

"But, Miranda! What about Page Six? What if someone tells them? I don't want them to say something that could hurt you." The distress in Andrea's voice was clear.

"We will deal with it as it comes, provided you decide to remain by my side," Miranda said softly. She was ready. The girls had been very vocal about wanting Andrea around more, about wanting to do more things _as a family_. Miranda wanted that, too. She could see it all, waiting to become reality—outings and family events and holidays.

"What? Of course, I will! I'm not going anywhere, Miranda," Andrea replied passionately.

"Except into my bed," Miranda said firmly before capturing pouty, moist lips in a heated kiss. "I want you so much, darling. It amazes me that you are here in my arms," she confessed as she nibbled behind Andrea's ear.

"Oh, Miranda," Andrea breathed. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

The car stopped in front of the townhouse, and they walked into the house, straight up the stairs, and into Miranda's bedroom. Without ceremony, they both undressed and met on the bed. They breathed in each other's moans as their lips met roughly. Andrea's skin felt so good, so smooth. Miranda's hands roamed freely over Andrea's curves, and she reveled in her obvious arousal. Soon Andrea hovered over her, eyes half-closed and mouth slightly open as the younger woman lightly panted. She slid up and down, her body barely touching Miranda's, causing Miranda to pant and groan and whimper.

"Please, Andrea. I need you," Miranda admitted, wanting this incredible woman to be hers. And wanting to give herself over completely.

"I'm right here, love," Andrea assured as she continued sliding over Miranda's body in an agonizingly erotic way. "I've waited so long," she cooed. "You are so beautiful."

Miranda leaned forward as her arms pulled Andrea closer, and she covered a swaying breast with her mouth. Moaning at the texture and taste, Miranda feasted on the fleshy area, sucking forcefully on the hard nipple and lashing it with her tongue.

"Ah, Miranda!" Andrea hissed, her body undulating more pronouncedly. "God! That feels so good."    

Holding her trembling body close, Miranda continued her loving attack as her hands massaged Andrea's flexing backside. She could feel wetness against her thigh, and Miranda felt no shyness as she wrapped a leg around Andrea's waist. Crying out as Andrea's fingers explored her swollen, wet folds, Miranda began gyrating in time with Andrea's body. They sped up, and Miranda moved her fingers to circle Andrea's clit as she switched to the other breast and lavished it with attention. "Jesus, you taste so good!" Miranda muttered around the breast, her breath catching as two fingers entered her. She wasted no time thrusting into Andrea, her palm grinding against Andrea's bundle of nerves as her beautiful body jerkily moved above her.

"Miranda, oh my God! You feel unbelievable," Andrea gasped as Miranda twisted her fingers and rubbed harder, her thumb pressing on Andrea's clit. "Ohhhh, oh, oh, oh, oh! Miranda," she squealed, her body spasming as she climaxed.

Witnessing Andrea's rapture, Miranda fell over the precipice, her voice hoarse as she roared Andrea's name. They moved together, breathless and sated as they rode out their orgasms. _Why did we wait so long?_ The reasons seemed so silly now. This intimacy was a gift, a beautiful, priceless gift. She would never let Andrea go. Never.

"You are incredible, Miranda Priestly," Andrea whispered fervently as she slid onto her side.

Miranda pulled out of Andrea slowly, fingers randomly moving against her twitching clit. She smiled with satisfaction as Andrea moaned loudly, her body moving slowly. Straddling Andrea's leg, Miranda kept touching Andrea as she began moving, enjoying Andrea's fingers within her, pumping into her more forcefully with each thrust. She was going to come again.

"Andrea," Miranda moaned in a low voice, her body moving fast, her mouth open, her back arched. Andrea's fingers squeezed one of her breasts in rhythm with their movements. Arching as her orgasm roared through her, Miranda heard Andrea cry out as she too reached completion. With a few languid thrusts of her hips that sent sparkling aftershocks through her body, Miranda rested. She felt Andrea remove her fingers from inside her, and Miranda sighed with contentment as her eyes fell shut. _This is heaven._

"I love you so much," Andrea whispered.

"I love you, too," Miranda said, her eyes still closed and body lethargic. "For so long. I still don't understand why you love me. Perhaps I never will. But I am grateful, so grateful. You are a gift, Andrea," Miranda added as she opened her eyes and gazed into luminous eyes. "My gift. A priceless gift. I love you."

They cuddled, dropping off to sleep for several hours before waking in the early morning and making love again. The reasons Miranda had for wanting to proceed slowly no longer mattered. Andrea loved her. And Miranda would make sure that in exchange she gave a gift as worthy as Andrea's love. It might not be wrapped, it might not be unscarred, but she knew that Andrea would cherish her gift. With a smile, Miranda murmured as the sun brightened the day, "I have given you my heart, Andrea."

"And that will always be the best gift you could ever give me," she said with an answering smile.  

No doubt they could debate whose was the better gift. Miranda looked forward to it. But first, she had a hunger to sate. And she knew exactly what she wanted for breakfast.

The End.


End file.
